


stay until i wake up

by AllStoriesComeFromSomewhere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel Deserves Better (Supernatural), Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural), Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Episode: s12e04 American Nightmare, Episode: s12e08 LOTUS, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, M/M, Pansexual Castiel (Supernatural), Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllStoriesComeFromSomewhere/pseuds/AllStoriesComeFromSomewhere
Summary: What really happened with Mick Davies.
Relationships: Castiel/Mick Davies
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	1. Mamma Mia

**Author's Note:**

> Basically there isn't enough Mickstiel content out there so I'm putting it out myself  
> This chapter takes place during s12e02 (Mamma Mia)

“He’s been in there for almost an hour.”

Dean had gone into the house to look for Sam approximately forty eight minutes ago, leaving Cas and Mary to watch the Impala. Mary leans calmly against the car’s door, only her picking at her nails giving her worry away. Cas’ hands twitch uselessly at his sides, every inch of him itching to go help. But Dean had wanted him to keep Mary here, and it wasn’t as if he could get past the warding, anyway.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Mary says suddenly. 

“Mary,” Cas warns, “you don’t know what’s in there, and I can’t follow you past the wards.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Castiel.”

Cas stays silent. For however much he loves the Winchesters, their infuriating recklessness seems to be a family trait.

Mary sighs. “Fine. Why don’t we just scout the perimeter?”

Cas considers it for a moment before nodding. They walk towards the old house, and Cas really shouldn’t be surprised when Mary makes a run for the door. _Winchesters_.

“Mary,” he calls in vain as the blonde kicks the boards over the window in. 

Cas sighs as she enters the house. He tries fatuously to pass the wards, ultimately ending up sitting down on the grass to wait. Minutes pass in silence before—

_BANG._

The sound of the gunshot spurs Cas to his feet. “Dean!” he calls. “Sam!” No answer. He tries once again to get past the wards, his efforts futile.

“Angel.”

He spins around to see a well-dressed man standing in the grasses behind him. His features are soft, boyish almost. He stands perfectly upright, hands casually in the pockets of his jacket as his eyes pierced Castiel. 

“You are the Winchesters’ angel, aren’t you?” The man speaks again, his voice affected by an accent that he can’t quite place. 

Cas blinked. “Uh, yes. I’m with the Winchesters.”

The man nods, moving toward him. Cas stumbles out of the way as he brushes past, bending over to touch the ground. A sigil lights up, slowly fading the longer the man touches it. Cas feels the warding diminish with the symbol, like air was being allowed back into his lungs. He watches as the stranger makes his way to the door, dodging the broken pieces of board almost artfully, before stopping to turn to him.

“Coming?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Blue eyes narrow as the angel wonders why this man is helping him before he warily follows him into the house. They walk in silence through slim corridors, stopping at a room in time to see Dean knock a woman unconscious.

“Well played.”

✮✮✮✮✮✮

“Lads, if I wasn't sincere, if I meant you harm, there's a dozen ways I could've come in here and taken you all prisoner instead of being unarmed. Not to mention I powered down all the wardings in this shack so your attack dog could come in.”

The man—Mick—looks at Cas while he says this, something close to admiration thinly veiled in his sea-green eyes. “I reckon you could finish me off without breaking a sweat, am I right?”

Cas squints, brows knitting together. “I don't sweat under any circumstances.”

An impish smirk takes over the Brit’s face, something like challenge accompanying it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card, handing it to Cas. “My number.”

He turns back to address the Winchesters. “Take your time, cool down, and just think it over. And what have you got to lose, except your worst nightmares?”

With that, he turns to leave, only pausing to look Cas over one more time with a smile.

 _Think it over_ , he mouths again. Then he leaves, Lady Bevell in tow, and Cas can’t help but feel a bit sad.

Shaking his head, he stamps the feeling down and turns to heal the Winchesters, turquoise eyes and a smirk imprinted in his mind.


	2. American Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first chapter was kind of short, but I promise it gets better!  
> This chapter takes place during s12e04 (American Nightmare), while the Winchesters investigate a case that leads them to a devout religious family that lives off the grid.

Cas sets the phone down. He and Crowley have been on the hunt for Lucifer for weeks now, and Castiel wasn’t sure how much more of the demon he could handle. Fortunately, one of Crowley’s contacts found a lead that Cas didn’t need to accompany him for, so he was left with the Bunker to himself, a welcome break from Crowley’s relentless talking. 

He sits down at the Map Table, idly wondering what to do with his free time. He goes over the events of the last few days. Their current lead on Lucifer involved a rock artist— Vance something or the other—so Cas is officially sick and tired of listening to rock music. He vaguely contemplates exploring other types of music before his mind wanders back further, to turquoise eyes and a mischievous grin. The British man, Mick, had intrigued him. Of course, he had mentioned several times that he came for the Winchesters, but something about the attention he gave Castiel made him feel different.

Special.

He felt something similar before, with the reaper, April, but that hadn’t ended too well.

Sighing, he shakes the thoughts from his mind, resolving to busy himself with menial tasks, like tidying up the bunker before the Winchesters got back. He is about to make his way to the back rooms to look for supplies when the sound of the door opening catches his attention. A familiar face pokes his head through the frame.

“Mick.”

A wolfish grin spreads across the Brit’s face. “Hello Castiel,” he says, bounding down the steps with an exaggerated pout. “Gave you my number. Thought you’d call.”

The angel frowns, tilting his head. 

“Not a Sherlock fan, then?”

The frown deepens.

Mick clears his throat awkwardly. “Okay, then.”

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks, raising a brow. He might be imagining it, but a little shiver seems to go through Mick at the sight.

“Uh, yes. I’m actually meant to be checking on the Winchesters.”

_ Of course.  _ “Sam and Dean are out on a hunt,” Cas tells him. “They should be back in a few days time.”

“Ah.” Mick fidgets awkwardly with the hem of his jacket. “Well in that case, would you like to join me for lunch?”

Cas blinks. “Lunch?”

“You don’t have to, of course,“ Mick says hurriedly, stumbling over his words. It’s such a drastic contrast from the Brit’s usually suave persona that Cas can’t stop a smile from twitching at his lips. “ But, I mean, if you do want to come,” Mick adds with a hopeful smile, “It's my treat.”

Cas opens his mouth to decline. It was bad enough that he was working with Crowley. Is it really a good idea to…consort with someone else the Winchesters consider an enemy? He should say no. But the pure hope in the other man’s eyes makes something inside him twist. 

“Alright,” he hears himself say, and the ebullient grin that lights up Mick’s face pushes out all thoughts of taking it back as the twisting feeling becomes more prominent.

How bad could one lunch be?

✮✮✮✮✮✮

Mick drives them in a car that looks as though it were borrowed from the Bunker’s own garage. He does a much better job at keeping his eyes on the road than Dean does, Cas notes, although he doesn’t miss the glances Mick keeps sending him when he thinks Cas isn’t looking. 

To his credit, Cas does try to keep his eyes ahead—both Winchester brothers had repeatedly told him his staring tended to creep people out, and something inside of him really didn’t want to scare Mick away—but it felt too stiff, so he moves his gaze over to the steering wheel, where Mick’s hands rest. 

There’s a black Men of Letters ring on his third finger, a stark contrast to the pale skin of his perfectly manicured hands. He wears a silver watch on his left wrist, the thin band eerily reminiscent of handcuffs. 

And that conjures up the image of Mick in handcuffs, which does strange things to Castiel’s vessel, and  _ oh, Chuck _ . 

A faint blush colours his cheeks, which does not go unnoticed by Mick. 

“Do you like my hands, angel?” he asks with a playful smirk. 

And Cas can’t do anything but nod as he watches Mick pull them into parking.

A deep chuckle escapes Mick’s throat as he leans over and puts a hand on Cas’ thigh. 

“Stick with me,” he murmurs, his breath tantalisingly prickling over Cas’ lips, “and I’ll give you a real reason to appreciate them.”

A hitched breath gets caught in Cas’ throat as Mick slowly pushes his hands hand up further,  _ closer _ . 

And then he pulls away with a little smirk and gets out of the car, leaving Cas to collect himself. 

Cas sits there for a moment, fingers ghosting over his lips as a smile creeps onto them.

Mick is a welcome change from the cut and dry nature of the Winchesters. Where Sam and Dean don’t particularly care to explain themselves, there’s no doubting Mick’s intentions. It’s…refreshing.

Cas opens the car door and half-jogs over to catch up with the Brit, who holds the door open for him.

The cool of air conditioning envelopes Cas as he steps in. They're in a restaurant. An honest-to-God restaurant. Cas takes a moment to look around while Mick talks to the host. It’s a much higher class establishment than the Winchesters tend to frequent. The lights aren't as blindingly fluorescent and the seating actually looks comfortable.

Mick leads them to a booth in the back, waiting for Cas to sit on one side before seating himself across from him.

“So,” he stars as the waiter sets their menus in front of them. “How have things been?”

Cas fidgets with his hands, watching the waiter set down their utensils. “Uh,” he says intelligently. “The Winchesters are working a case in Iowa. Something about stigmata. Mason City, I think, there was a girl in a church who—”

“Castiel,” Mick interrupts, stilling the angel’s hands with his own. “While what the Winchesters do is fascinating, it’s not really date material,” he says with a kind smile. “What's going on with  _ you _ ?”

Cas stares, open-mouthed. “A-A date?”

Nervousness creeps onto Mick’s face. “Yes. Is that alright? I know we never discussed—it’s okay if you don't want to, we can still be friends, I just—”

“Mick.” It’s Cas’ turn to interrupt as he tightens his grip on the other man’s hands. “If it’s alright with you, I don't really think I want to be friends.”

And Mick smiles and  _ Father _ , it’s like the  _ sun has risen _ and Cas isn’t quite sure what the turmoil of emotions that erupt in his stomach mean, but he knows that he’s gone, for better or for worse.

The rest of their meal goes wonderfully, Mick regaling him with tales from his days at Kendrick’s, keeping him laughing and engaged, and when Castiel talks, he listens, genuinely interested.

And if for the next few days, Cas daydreams about sea-green eyes and an effervescent smile, well, nobody has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Feel free to leave a comment, or, if you really want to, you can find me on tumblr by the same name :)


	3. LOTUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during s12e08 (LOTUS). Enjoy!

“So it's all very simple, really,” Ketch says, “Mick Davies asked you to join our effort, which we're taking international. My instructions are to strongly encourage a ‘yes.’” 

At the mention of Mick, Cas’ head jerks up. He quickly looks to make sure neither of the brothers noticed. Fortunately, they’re more focused on Ketch.

“So, what?“ he asks, attempting to keep his voice neutral. “You’ve just been following us?” He tries to keep the eagerness off of his features, silently hoping that if Ketch was here, Mick was somewhere nearby, but Ketch seems to catch it anyway.

“Not at all,” he says with a smirk. “We're good dogs. We only come when called.” With this he nods his head toward Sam. “And he called.”

Both Dean and Cas turn to look at the younger Winchester, betrayal written clearly on their faces.

“You what?” Dean asks, incredulous. Something boils inside Cas, hot and livid. It doesn’t seem fair that he has to keep quiet about his  _ fraternising _ with the Men of Letters when Sam is doing the same thing.

“I-I didn't, uh,” Sam stutters, “I hung up.”

Cas glares, opening his mouth to say something when Ketch speaks.

“Yes, you did, which made Mr. Davies think that you were in trouble, which you were. So he rings me. Bing, bang, boom. Meet Bob. He's your uncle.”

The angel pauses, surprised. The way Ketch phrased it, it sounds as though Mick was worried. But that doesn’t sound right; Mick certainly didn't have a close enough relationship with the brothers to be worried about them. Unless…

Unless he knew Cas was going to be there. That would explain why Ketch knew he was an angel.

“Oh, and, um, you're welcome.”

Ketch’s voice snaps him out of his reverie and forces him to suppress the optimistic thoughts.

Dean scoffs. “And why should we believe anything that you have to say?”

Ketch lets out a low chuckle. “You, Halo,” he says, nodding at the angel. “Do you sense I'm lying?”

Cas bristles at the disrespectful acknowledgement. “My name is Castiel,” he says, glaring at the Brit. 

Ketch smirks, nodding in recognition. “Davies’ boyfriend,” he says under his breath, so quietly that Cas wouldn’t have heard it if not for his heightened angel hearing. Fighting to keep a blush down, he continues as if he hadn’t heard it.

“And no.” Turning to the brothers, he adds, “But the truth can be situational.”

Ketch chuckles again. “Oh, I do enjoy an angel. But I understand your hesitation. You haven't exactly seen us at our best. Lady Bevell is a bit…excitable.”

Sam scoffs. “She tried to kill us.”

“Like I said, excitable.”

“And you're better?”

“I don't care about you one way or the other. I'm not an ideologue.”

Cas snorts. “And all you wanna do is help these American Hunters to clear this country of monsters?”

Ketch raises an eyebrow, as if to say “you’d know,” but continues anyway. “We understand things are different here. We're eager to collaborate. The British Men of Letters are centuries old, lads. We can offer expertise, weaponry, skills.”

Cas stops listening as he shows the Winchesters a considerable array of weapons. So, Mick had told Ketch about his… relations with Cas. The thought makes Cas’ heart lift, only to clamp down again when his eyes fall on Sam. If Sam and Mick had been in contact, why wouldn’t they tell him? Why wouldn’t  _ Mick _ tell him?

Then Ketch is showing them some sort of egg-shaped thing and Cas has to push the sombre thoughts away, focusing now on finding the Devil and his son.


	4. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows episode 9 of season 12 (First Blood).

“ _Hello. Mick Davies here. Leave a message._ ”

“Um, hi. It’s Cas. Castiel.” The angel grimaces as he stumbles over his words. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continues. “We got into a bit of trouble a while back and we need your help. I need your help. Meet us at Rocky Mountain National Park. I, uh, hope to see you soon.” The call ends with a beep and Cas lets out a sigh.

He and Mick haven’t spoken in person in over two months, since before the brothers were taken. Right now, he’s standing at a rest stop near the Bunker, waiting for Mary to pick him up. He knows he should’ve called Mick earlier. The Men of Letters certainly had enough weapons and skills to make him useful while the Winchesters were out of play. But he couldn’t make himself pick up the phone.

He can only hope that Mick can as Mary pulls up.

✮✮✮✮✮✮

“This is your idea?” Mary demands, glaring at the Brits warily. “The people that almost killed my boys, they're gonna be our backup? Suddenly, the demon and his mommy don't look so bad.”

Ketch and Mick lean against their car—the same car, Cas notes, that Mick took him out in—polite smiles plastered across both their faces. Ketch looks generally bored, while Mick greets Cas with a nod, eyes warm.

Cas nods back with a tight smile. “They helped us with Lucifer,” he reasoned.

At this the Brits blink, polite façade breaking for only a moment before they paste it back on, tinged with awe.

“Lucifer?” Mick asked in disbelief. “The Lucifer?”

Castiel’s heart jumps with pride, but he keeps his face straight. “Yes.”

“Wait, so you're telling me what happened in Indianapolis was you took on the bleedin' Devil himself?”

“Yes.”

A beat.

“Did you win?” Ketch asks.

“Yes.”

Ketch stares at him, positively impressed. “Bravo,” he says approvingly. Mick doesn’t say anything, but he’s looking at Cas with unconcealed amazement and Cas is once again filled with the feeling of being _special_. 

“But Sam and Dean were taken,” Mary tells them, bringing their attention back to the problem at hand. “We think we can get them back, but we need help.”

Mick glances at Castiel again for just a moment before giving a shrug. “So we'll help,” he says simply.

Mary squints at him, dubious. “Really? Just like that?”

Mick studies her for a moment, then puts his hands in his pockets and a charismatic smile on his face that makes Cas want to believe anything he says. “Mrs. Winchester—Mary—I came to this country to do one thing: make friends,” he says earnestly. “But you American hunters, you're -- you're a different breed than our sort. You're surly, suspicious. You don't play well with others.”

“Well, that is accurate,” Cas states, giving Mary an apologetic look. She scowls at him, but Cas only has eyes for the smirk it draws out of Mick.

“You don't trust people you don't know, even when they come bearing gifts,” he continues. “Now I can't help that, but I can help you. And if word were to get out that we did our part to save Sam and Dean Winchester, well, that's just good business, innit? And who knows,” he continues, eyes drifting over to Cas, “When all this is over, we might even be friends.”

A smile creeps over Cas’ lips, causing him to turn away so that Mary didn’t notice.She, however, is too busy glaring down the Brits to pay him any mind, in classic Winchester style. She still looks a bit dubious, but huffs and gives in. “We think Sam and Dean were being held somewhere in the Rocky Mountain National Forest,” she says.

“Site 94?” Ketch asks. At the lack of response, he states, “It's a government facility, off-books. Shadow ops. One of those places that officially doesn't exist.”

“Then how do you know about it?” Mary asks.

“We gather information,” Mick tells her, still keeping his eyes on Castiel. “It's our job.”

Cas squirms a bit under his gaze, which draws a tiny smirk from Mick. “They told us to meet them off State Route 34,” Cas says, hoping his face doesn’t look as hot as it feels.

“Well, that's a long stretch of road,” Ketch remarks. “Where, exactly?”

“I'm not sure.”

Mick pulls out a phone from his pocket. “I'll get our techs to put a satellite over the area.”

“You can do that?” Mary asks.

“And so much more,” Mick confirms, putting on an award-winning smile that did nothing to help Cas’ growing feelings. Mick, of course, catches the angel’s faint smile and sends back a grin before turning to get back in his car and for the first time in weeks, Cas feels light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I am so sorry this chapter is late, but s/o to the people in the comments/in my tumblr asks who reminded me to finally post!! y'all are the real ones!


	5. Regarding Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick and Cas meet again :)  
> This chapter takes place during s12e11 (Regarding Dean). Ironic because Dean isn't actually in this chapter.

Cas slams his hand on his nightstand, attempting to stop the incessant ringing coming from his phone. He manages to lean over the side of the bed to reach it and answers the incoming call without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” he mutters blearily.

“ _Castiel_ ,” a pleasant voice lights up the phone. “ _It’s Davies, Mick Davies._ ”

“Mick,” Cas says, rapidly blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Hi.”

“ _Hi back_ ,” the Brit says, the smile clear in his voice. “ _Listen, the workload’s a bit light today at the base, so I was wondering if you were free today?_ ” A thud sounds as Cas leans too far and falls off of the bed. “ _Castiel?_ ”

“Sorry, I’m fine,” Cas says, stumbling to his feet. His elbow stings a bit but it doesn’t look like it’s going to bruise. Now he knows he’s awake. “You were saying?”

“ _I was just asking if you were interested in pursuing a second date tonight?_ ”

Cas stands for a moment. “Uh,” he says dumbly. “Yes.”

“ _Great!_ ” Mick says. “ _Why don’t you meet me at Tom’s Bistro at eight?_ ”

“Sounds good,” Cas replies, his voice slightly higher than it was a moment ago. Sighing, he clears his throat. “I mean,” he tries again, “I’ll meet you there.”

“ _Brilliant,_ ” Mick replies, and Castiel can hear the twinkle of laughter in his voice. “ _See you then._ ” The dial tone sounds, signifying the end of the call, and Cas promptly slams his head on the nearest wall, contemplating everything that brought him to this point.

✮✮✮✮✮✮

“Castiel,” Mick calls as the angel gets out of the car. Cas can’t keep himself from grinning as the Brit half-jogs across the parking lot to meet up with him. “You made it,” he says, smiling. 

Cas smiles back. “I did say I would.”

And they stand there for a moment, blue eyes locked in azure, a comfortable silence enveloping the two. _This_ , Castiel thinks, _feels nice_. It’s a mutual admiration with just a touch of desire, enough to create vague tension in the air that Cas knows he can break if he moves just a little closer. So he does. He takes one step forward and watches Mick’s pupils dilate as his breath gets caught in his throat.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Cas murmurs.

Mick lets out a quiet breath. “Believe me,” he replies, smiling, “the pleasure is mine.”

Then he lets out a soft gasp as a car alarm goes off in the distance, startling them both.

“Well,” Mick lets out a breathless laugh, “I suppose we ought to go in now.”

Cas chuckles in agreement. They both move to walk toward the door when the angel suddenly stops. “Wait,” he says, looking down. 

Mick turns to him, brows knitting slightly in concern. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No, it’s just—” Cas takes a breath. “This is a date, right?”

Mick’s eyebrows unfurrow as he relaxes a bit. “It is as long as you want it to be,” he confirms.

Cas nods, thinking for a moment. Taking another deep breath, he reaches for Mick’s hand and holds it. “I do,” he decides, smiling.

Once again, an ebullient grin takes over Mick’s face, and as they walk to the front door of the bistro, hand in hand, Cas forgets about all of his problems and decides that he would personally fight all the spirits in hell for that smile.

✮✮✮✮✮✮

_I’m going to die here,_ Cas thinks as he gasps for breath. The pain in his sides refuses to subside and his cheeks ache as if they were carrying heavy weights. 

“Don’t laugh!” Mick exclaims with a smile, interrupting Castiel’s peals of laughter. “We were a group of 12-year-old boys at a stuffy boarding school! To us a half pence increase in chip prices was worthy reason for the revolution of the century!”

“Of course,” Cas manages to get out between laughs. “That definitely merits the battering ram.”

“You’re obviously not fully understanding the gravity of the offence,” Mick says with a pout, though Cas can see through the humorous twinkle in his eye that he’s holding back his own grin.

Coming down from his last bout of laughter, Cas lets out a contented sigh. “In all the time I’ve been alive I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever laughed.”

Mick’s eyes soften as he gazes at Castiel across the table, still sporting that ever-so-charming smile. “I’m glad my adolescent excursions could do that for you,” he jokes. 

He looks dashing, Cas thinks, in his tailored suit underneath the warm lights of the Bistro. His confident air makes him look perfectly at home among the mahogany tables and high-end leather seats. His hair is styled and his beard is perfectly trimmed to shadow his face. A silver watch glistens on his right wrist—a different one from their last date, Cas notices—and an emerald Men of Letters ring rests on his left hand, accenting the green of his blazer. 

“You’re very handsome,” Cas notes aloud. Mick looks startled at the compliment and Castiel relishes in the blush that rises to his cheeks.

“Thank you.” He looks down, fidgeting with his collar, a pleased smile on his face. “You’re rather attractive as well.” He looks up quickly, as if he were struck by a sudden thought. “Or, your vessel is,” he corrects himself, then winces. “I didn't mean—”

“It’s alright,” Castiel assures him. “This body is mine now. I’m its sole inhabitant.”

Mick tilts his head questioningly. “What happened to him?”

It’s Castiel’s turn to wince as memories of his old body came rushing back. “Not exactly date material,” he says with a grimace.

Mick nods understandingly. “And what about your true form?” he asks interestedly. “Has anyone seen it?”

“One human did.” Cas studies the Brit’s face, looking for a reaction. “She went blind.”

Mick does react, but not fearfully, as Cas expects him to. His lips part slightly and he breathes out a slight “ _Oh_ .” Intrigue, maybe? _No_ , Cas realises as he watches the Brit’s pupils dilate, _attraction._

Cas isn’t unaware that his body is conventionally attractive, but his angelhood? _Interesting._

“Here’s your check.” A blonde waitress drops a billfold between them. Mick blinks and the moment is gone. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“No, that’ll be all,” he says, clearing his throat and looking away. Cas grins.

At some point as they walk back across the parking lot, their fingers end up laced together. Under the cool, crisp moonlight, they make it to Cas’ car first, stopping in front of the hood. Cas turns to face him. 

“I guess this is goodbye.” Neither lets go of the other’s hand.

“I guess it is,” Mick agrees. His eyes flit to the angel’s lips, then back to his eyes.

Suddenly the tension is back in the air as Cas feels himself leaning in, lips parting. Mick leans in as well, resting a hand flat on the other’s chest. Cas feels his breath get caught in his throat as the gap is closed, lips pressing together sweetly, simply. He brings a hand up to Mick’s waist, bringing him closer as he parts his lips, allowing Cas’ tongue to explore the inside of his mouth. He can sense Mick’s legs weakening underneath his hand as the kiss deepens and the feeling is just heavenly, nay, _euphoric_. 

They’re both gasping as they pull apart, though still unfathomably close, and Cas would give anything for this moment to last forever: staring into Mick’s beautiful sea-green eyes, his hand on his chest and his taste still in his mouth.

He swears he can see a twinge of regret in Mick’s eyes as he begins to pull away. “I should get back to the base.”

He starts to move in the direction of his own car but Cas doesn’t let go of his hand, tightening the grip of their still intertwined fingers. 

“When can I see you again?” His voice is slightly hoarse, giving it a desperate edge, but Mick returns a bashful smile.

“Soon,” he promises, then he leans back in to give Cas a parting peck on the lips before he steps back, pulling their fingers apart. “Goodbye Castiel.”

And with one last look, he makes his way to his own car, leaving Castiel with a soft smile and his fingers ghosting over his lips, a feeling of elation filling his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! they kissed!! how are we feeling about their relationship so far? feel free to leave a comment or find me on tumblr @allstoriescomefromsomewhere :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment telling me what you think!  
> If you really want, you can also find me on tumblr by the same name :)


End file.
